


Surviving the Apocalypse

by Margay96



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: AU, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Angst, Depression, Dystopia, M/M, Peter is a scavenger, Taskmaster - Freeform, WIP, Wade is a merc, past taskpool
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-07-15 14:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7226170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Margay96/pseuds/Margay96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since the Apocalypse, Wade has slowly been losing touch with reality. Enter Peter: a young man who has somehow managed to survive alone in the Raider-infested city and given Wade a reason to keep on living. Assuming he isn't just another hallucination, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sunsets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the spideypool apocalypse AU that nobody asked for...

There were a lot of things that Wade missed; hot showers and cold drinks being among the first things that usually sprang to mind. Now though, staring at his decrepit surroundings, of which only shards of splintered glass and twisted signposts served as evidence that yes, this had once been a city, he was starting to think differently.

The sky had turned gray a long time ago, casting the rubble-strewn landscape in a tragic hue. His eyes skimmed over the toppled buildings and cars buried under just enough debris to make any form of rescue futile. Not that a recovery would do much good, the streets had long become a minefield of boulders and rusty pipes anxious to reach out and trip even the most sure-footed of scouts.

No sane person ventured into the city anymore. The shops had long since been cleared out, and there was no food left to speak of, or at least nothing edible. In short, wandering the city was an unnecessary risk, and that was even _before_ the Raiders had shown up. Nowadays, to go there was to die.

Which of course begged the question of why he, Wade Winston Wilson was even there in the first place.

The answer had seemed so clear to him just moments ago, something tangible and solid, heavily nestled in his heart. But now...? Wade saw it for what it was. It was squishy at best, its foundation too fragile to be built upon. He wondered at not having noticed it earlier.

He supposed he had been trying to find some connection to humanity. Not his own, heaven knew that had run away a long time ago, it's tail tucked firmly between its legs, but simply to humankind as a concept, proof that things hadn't always been this way.

He was one of the very few who remembered a time before the invasion. Even now, there were those who insisted that there had never been an invasion- that the skies had never opened up and rained down hell's nightmares upon them. And still there were others who acknowledged the invasion, but insisted that it had occurred way before their time, certainly too long ago for anyone to be able to remember.

Sometimes Wade questioned his age. He seemed to be thirty something, as far as he could discern. It was hard to tell with the scars raking their way across his face and body. The scars were ever present shifting snakes, resting beneath his skin, each day slithering somewhere new. Which begged the question, if Wade didn't even know the intricacies of his own body, how did he know what was the truth? What he perceived with his own convoluted mind? Or the interpretations from the equally corrupted surrounding him? But the pain was real enough, constantly burrowing its fangs deep into Wade's skin, so he supposed that this must be reality, that perhaps he wasn't dreaming after all. Whether he was lucid or not was another matter entirely, and one of which he was not sure that he could ever find an answer to.

Not that he had never tried.

Which brought him back to his reason for coming here to this godforsaken place. He sat perched atop what at some point had probably been a fairly large and impressive statue, his hands raw from the climb up. The wind whistled around his ears, hot and persistent in its quest to topple him over. Wade adjusted his grip, determined not to let it succeed, and peered out into the gray haze. It was only after the sky had muted into black that Wade allowed himself to fall back in resignation.

He remembered sunsets. He knew that they had existed. He recalled how every night the sky had been flooded with vibrant reds and pinks and little dashes of lavender sprinkled amongst the clouds. They were stark in his mind, crisp in their natural beauty, but now? Now they were gone and the sky was as ugly as the rest of the world.

His memory was fuzzy at best and nonexistent at worst, but the way the sky had exploded each night before dying was one of the few things that he could actually remember clearly. If he couldn’t count on his sunsets, what _could_ he count on? He’d had false memories before, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to admit that the sunsets he remembered had been a lie. It had been a constant in his life, the one thing he could depend on. Even when he had been squirreled away beneath the earth, hidden away from the world, they had allowed him a small mercy in the form of a tiny smoke-stained window from which to watch the sunset. It seemed ironic how, in those dark times, a dying sun was the only thing to brighten up his life.

Wade heaved a great sigh and allowed his eyelids to slip closed. He was losing his grip on reality. He knew he needed to move. If he couldn’t find shelter before dawn he was a dead man, but now, sucking dust into his lungs with every rattling breath, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He stayed exactly where he was, splayed out against the rough stone high above the city (or at least what remained of it) and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Peter is showing up next chapter. Until then, comment and/or leave kudos to let me know what you thought!


	2. Sunrise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade comes face to face with a mysterious young man.

“Hey.” Something was poking him in the ribs. “Hey, you alive man?”

Wade kept his eyes firmly shut. If he didn’t open his eyes, he didn’t have to wake up. He could still pretend this was all a dream. He didn’t want to open his eyes just to be greeted by the slimy grin of a foul-nosed Raider or worse, the bleak expanse of unbroken sky above him.

“Hey man, if you’re dead, Imma take your stuff.”

Wade wrinkled his nose in confusion. That didn’t _sound_ like a Raider. Come to think of it, those weren’t claws skating over his flesh either. A hand snaked its way down to his boots and what Wade identified as fingers started to undo his laces. Okay, that was decidedly _un_ Raider-like behavior.

Quick as a whip, Wade kicked his foot up and into something solid and flipped himself over onto the shoe thief. He wasn’t _quite_ as agile as he had hoped to be, and he nearly took the long fall to meet the pavement below. Fortunately however, thanks to the squirming of the young man beneath him, he was thrown violently to the opposite side, landing unceremoniously on the kid’s face. He quickly wriggled down and pinned the other man’s arms above his head and sat on his legs so that they would stop trying to kick him in the head.

“Nobody touches my stuff,” Wade growled lowly, his face inches away from the other man’s. “Certainly not some twinkly princess-haired mook. Thought you could sneak up on me, eh?” Wade paused and contemptuously regarded the man trapped between his legs. “Who the fuck are you anyway? Haven’t seen you on the reserve before, and I think I would’ve noticed a face like _that_.” Wade was of course referring his chiseled brow and fiery hazel eyes that threatened to wrench his head from his shoulders, not the obviously mangled nose currently leaking blood into the space between them.

“Who the fuck am I? Who the fuck are you?” With that, the man bucked his hips up and Wade went flying, slamming into the stone and then just barely managing to find purchase in the cracked stone before he started to truly fall. He had to admit, he was impressed. The kid had some moves.

With a heaving groan, Wade pulled himself once again back onto the statue. He paused momentarily to roll the stiffness out of his shoulders. Sleeping up here on the exposed rock of some long deceased bald guy’s head had been fatuous in more ways than one apparently.

“Ya know,” Wade groaned as his back finally unkinked itself with a shark cracking sound. “You’re pretty strong for a kid. What’s your secret? Pilates? Step aerobics?” He tossed a glance back over his shoulder, effectively decompressing his neck in the process, to size up his new companion.

The kid was gone.

Wade looked around wildly, his head spinning like the bobbleheads he used to collect. He was standing on a rounded slab of stone _maybe_ ten foot square, if that. There was nowhere that the young man could have hid himself. Wade was alone.

A gruesome thought struck him and he quickly dashed to peer over the edge. With a sinking feeling, he traced the denticulate rubble with his well-trained eyes, scanning for an all too familiar crimson stain.

Nope. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. The only bits of red he saw was his own flaking plasma remnants from his earlier ascent. There was no large splash of color or even a body to suggest that the kid had met an unfortunate and early demise.

Wade scratched his head. There was no earthly way the kid could have gotten down that quickly, and certainly not without hurting himself. He supposed it must be easier going down than up, but still. It must have taken him at least half an hour to climb up here and, well, he had muscles. The kid, on the other hand, was built like a dry twig. There was no way he had done it in what, sixty seconds?

And here was Wade’s problem. He knew, logically, that it was impossible for anyone to vanish like that. But here he was, alone. Wade’s first instinct was to rule it yet another hallucination, but…Wade rubbed his left elbow and winced at the stinging pain that shot through it. Contradictory information. Wade knew nothing had transpired, and yet here he was, in pain. Wade lived in a perpetual state of confusion and dissonance, cherry picking his way through reality.

Wade took a long breath to steady himself. Okay. Mr. Cheekbones McSexyface, obviously not real. The pain coursing through his left arm? Definitely real. He glanced down at his shoes. The laces on his right curb stomper were halfway undone. The problem was, he couldn’t remember if he had even tied them in the first place.

Wade groaned and dragged his hand down his face in frustration. This trip was supposed to reaffirm his sanity, not confuse it further.

He took stock of the shortening shadows and glanced up at the sky, now noticeably a few shades paler. He estimated that he had maybe an hour before it was bright enough for him to become Raider-chow. Great, one hour to pick his way through the maze of dilapidation. Well this was going to be fun.

He had just started to search for an easy way down, preferably one with sturdy footholds, when he saw it. It was just for a second, and it was brief enough that Wade wasn’t entirely unsure that he had imagined it. He trained his eyes intently on the spot where it had vanished in between two monolithic boulders. _There_. His eyes caught the same flash of cinnamon he’d seen before. It was hair- just as stringy and unruly as before.

He made a mental note of where the man was heading before throwing himself off of the statue. He slid down just slow enough to avoid death, but heedless of any other dangers the unforgiving stone presented. One harrowing and admittedly painful ride later, he was tearing off after the man he had seen.

His right sleeve was entirely nonfunctional, and Wade was pretty sure he had lost the seat of his pants if the hot breeze was anything to go by, but he didn’t care. The boy from before was _real_. At least Wade hoped so. It would be really embarrassing showing back up at camp and having to explain how his disheveled appearance came from chasing a hallucination.

His sleeve kept smacking him in the face as he ran, making an annoying flapping sound and flinging tiny rocks in his face. He ripped it off in annoyance. In retrospect, he probably should have kept it; it was much easier to repair a jacket than to scavenge for a new one. Whatever. He didn’t have time to stop. He needed all the speed he could get. He could actually see the kid now, picking his way between the rubble unhurriedly, apparently oblivious to the two hundred something pound mercenary barreling towards him at full speed.

Wade threw his hand up. “Wait! Hey dude, wait!” The kid looked back over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes in annoyance before returning to his task at a quicker pace than before. Wade marveled at the way he was able to effortlessly bounce over the obstacles in his way. With practiced moves like that, it was apparent that the kid had been here for quite some time. Wade stared for a second before he realized that watching the kid swing effortlessly over a large sheet of metal meant that he was getting away. He swore and started hustling toward the younger man once again.

“Hey man, seriously. I’m going to chase you until stop and talk to me.” Despite Wade’s words, the other man didn’t stop, but he did pause long enough for Wade to weasel up and snag the man’s ankle.

The man looked down from where he was scaling a particularly nasty piece of sheetrock. “Fuck off.”

Wade gaped openly at the man’s asperity. “Is that anyway to treat someone you just met?”

“You broke my nose.” He shook off Wade’s hand and resumed his ascent. Wade took a second to admire this new view before dashing under a precariously perched beam and cutting him off on the other side.

“My name’s Wade. What’s yours?” Wade stuck out his hand for a handshake.

The other man curled his lip in annoyance. “Stop following me.”

“Stop following me? Well that’s a weird name.” The other man just glared at him. “Oh, come _on_ , it was a _joke_. You do know what a joke is, right?” Again, wade was met with a steely stare. “Look, I just wanted to say hi, maybe get to know you a little bit. It’s not every day you run into someone in the middle of a deserted wasteland.

Now, come on. Seriously. What’s your name? Or your favorite color? Or, well, anything really. Please, just say _something_ so I know this isn’t just my brain dicking with me.”

The man paused, apparently weighing his options. Eventually he sighed and let out a begrudging “Peter. Blue. Now please leave me alone.”

Wade awkwardly licked his lips. “You know, I feel like you liked me better when you thought I was dead.”

“Maybe you are. Maybe I’m just a figment of your imagination.” Peter wiggled his fingers in front of Wade’s face. “Close your eyes and count to ten and let’s find out.”

Wade pouted. “You’re just saying that to so that you can ditch me”

Peter let out a puff of breath in exasperation. “Whatever man, sun’s coming up soon, so either scram or get eaten. It’s your choice.”

“Or, and I’m just spit-balling here, so hear me out, I could come with you.”

Peter barked out a laugh. “Fat chance, you’d just slow me down. Now, if you’d excuse me…”

“Wait!” Wade could see Peter tense his shoulders in aggravation, but he turned back to face the merc anyway. “I, uh, I’m not exactly sure where I am.”

“You don’t know where you are,” Peter repeated, looking for all the world like someone had just handed him a bag filled with nothing but licorice jellybeans.

“Er, yeah, see I wasn’t a hundred percent with it when I decided to stroll out here, and then I got all turned around chasing after you, and well, now I’m lost.” Wade could feel his cheeks growing hot under Peter’s scrutiny. He could only imagine how he looked, his suit was in tatters. He was one-sleeved and bare cheeked in more ways than one, with all his scars bare to the world. He wished he had thought to bring his mask with him, but then, it wasn’t like had had been expecting company.

“You’re lost,” Peter echoed.

Wade nodded furiously. “Yeah, so you know, any help at all would be-”

“Good luck with that.” With that, Peter retreated over a small pile of debris, and Wade was forced to duck to avoid the shower of pebbles he left in his wake.

Wade stared in disbelief at the spot where Peter had disappeared. Peter had abandoned him, and now he was alone and completely turned around in a sunlit raider-infested city.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry Peter’s so salty. Darn it, this was supposed be a cute chapter! (Maybe one of these days I’ll actually write a Peter who is happy and leading fulfilling life (but that day is not today))
> 
> Anyways, I’m going to start introducing secondary characters in just two or three chapters, and I was wondering if you guys had any favorite characters that you would like to see show up. No promises or anything, and I already have plans for at least 7 core characters (No, I’m not telling you who they are), but I’m planning on having an extensive supporting cast, and I’d appreciate some input.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me and reading this, and as always, let me know what you thought!


	3. Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade comes face to face with a Raider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I still haven't decided what I want to name this universe. (I'll figure it out eventually)

Wade would have liked to say that he handled himself with dignity and poise. Hell, he would’ve liked to describe his current actions as anything other than ‘curled up and rocking in a corner’. It wasn’t his finest moment. To be fair, it wasn’t his worst either, but that hardly made it any less emasculating.

It was dark. Too dark. The obsidian night was invading his mind, its crushing tendrils sending him back to the cold, dank underground of his nightmares. He flinched as shadowy knives cut themselves into his flesh.

Wade drew a shuddering breath and forced himself back to the present. He grounded his fingers into the filth lining the floor and pressed his shoulders back into the comforting solidity of the walls behind him. He let out another long breath, doing his best to center himself.

It wasn’t surgical steel he was afraid of; it was the snagging claws of the Raiders. He wasn’t _afraid_ of the darkness; it was his friend. The shadows cloaking him were possibly his only real form of concealment against the acute senses of the raiders. Even with his weapons, Wade doubted he could find better protection than the obscurity the shadows provided him.

He rocked his head back against the cool stone, a welcome relief from the torrid air. He had wedged himself into a fairly defensible corner. It wasn’t exactly the best if he was forced to beat an impromptu retreat, but he hadn’t wasted much time on finding a decent hiding spot. He had been much more concerned with staying alive long enough to fight for his survival. Besides, he reasoned, it wasn’t like he was going to be given much of an opportunity to escape one way or another.

Not much was actually known about the raiders. Very few encounters actually resulted in survivors, but as always happens with these sorts of things, there were rumors. Conspiracy theories and outlandish cries for attention were mixed together with little rainbow sprinkles of truth to create one convoluted milkshake of a beast. It had always been disputed what exactly the raiders looked like. Nobody seemed to know if they had fur or scales or some terrible combination of the two; even across the survivors, the stories always seemed to become a little muddled and confused. There were even those who argued that they were born from the inky darkness itself, and that was why they never came out at night, because they would simply melt away. The only thing that anyone seemed to agree on were the claws. The claws and their unnatural despicable and absolutely ruthless nature that was.

_Clink_

Wade froze, shaken out of his thoughts by an ominous sound from across the store. Wade peered straight out from his encampment, wishing he had had the foresight to find something to use as a shield. His ears followed the sound to the women’s intimate’s section, which he would have found hilarious if it wasn’t so goddamn _terrifying._ The plasticy scrape of nails against painted concrete continued until, with a crash, a Raider stumbled its way through a display and staggered into a column of light filtering its way through the worn slots in the ceiling.

It was _huge_ , easily twice his size. It certainly wouldn’t be winning any beauty contest anytime soon, but there was a certain elegance to the way it half slithered, half dragged its way across the floor. Wade closed his eyes for a brief second as he prepared himself for the harsh reality of what was about to happen. He opened them as he felt something hot and gooey trickle its way down his face.

It was drooling on him.

“Gross,” Wade muttered without thinking. Suddenly, he got a _really_ good view of the beast as all four of its bulbous red eyes snapped onto him. He then got an even _better_ view as said beastie sunk all four of its nine inch long canines into the muscle of Wade’s left shoulder. Wade screamed as the Raider lifted him off the ground, his hands grappling against the oily pelt for leverage.

Finding none, he drew his right hand to his chest and withdrew the knife he kept stashed there. It was becoming hard to see, since Wade was positioned directly opposite the Raider’s monstrously huge nostrils, and a mucus-y slime berated him every time the monster breathed out. Regardless, Wade slashed upwards blindly and, despite the excruciating pain, grinned when he felt resistance and heard the Raider’s pained bellow.

His victory was short lived however, as the Raider’s tail whipped around and tightened its grip around Wade’s ankle like some kind of perverted monkey. He yelped in surprise and tried wriggling like a trout to shake it off, but once again, he was thwarted; this time by something decidedly _pointier_.

The claws. He had forgotten about the claws. There were only three of them on each arm, which made for a total of six, but that was more than enough. The claws of a Raider were no joke, and had graced many a bloody sonnet and nightmare-inducing bedtime story. For good reason too; a single well-placed stab or slash from even one razor sharp claw was enough to put even the most thick headed scout underground. Now, as Wade stared dully down at the two claws protruding a foot out from either side of his chest, he was simply glad that they hadn’t pierced any major organs.

Not that that would matter in a moment anyway.

The Raider withdrew its teeth from Wade’s shoulder and once more swung its head around so that they were face to face. He could just feel the barest brush of enamel against his forehead when he heard it.

It was a whooping noise so close that the Raider abandoned its task and looked around blindly in the dim light for its source. Wade wasn’t entirely sure what happened next because all of a sudden the world went sideways, but he heard a distinct cracking noise coming from somewhere down by his right hip which was soon followed by the pained roar of the Raider and then all of a sudden he felt himself being slammed into the ground.

On the upside, the Raider was no longer _inside_ him, a fact that he was immediately grateful for. On the downside, this apparently meant that he was in even _more_ pain than before.

He groaned and forced his eyes open. His earlier dizziness caused by the blood loss had been made even worse by his new head injury, and he wasn’t _exactly_ sure what he was looking at.

The Raider seemed to have grown a new tooth, this one pointing up straight through the roof of its mouth. It took Wade a moment to realize that no, that wasn’t a tooth, it was actually the broken shard of the Raider’s own claw. His eyes trailed down to the Raider’s blood-soaked hand, where he could clearly see two claws covered with his own internal fluids and another obviously shorter one sporting jagged edges and spurting out blood with all the furvor of a ketchup dispenser. Wade giggled. He knew the blood loss was making him just a bit delirious, but right now, watching the Raider stagger around like his father after a bender, Wade laughed harder than he had all month.

He felt two strong arms push at him, and somehow Wade understood through his delirium that he was supposed to _move_ , that it wasn’t safe here, but he couldn’t force his limbs to obey him, and instead they just flopped around uselessly. He heard an exaggerated sigh above him and those same arms reached under Wade and lifted him up and up. He gripped onto the muscular shoulder across which he was slung, suddenly fearful that he might become too light and start to drift away.

“Hey, would you stop it? That kind of hurts.” Distantly, Wade thought he recognized that voice, and right before he sunk into unconsciousness he thought he saw a flash of cinnamon hair, but his eyes suddenly became too heavy to hold open, and Wade surrendered his train of thought and instead allowed himself to drift back down and slowly sink into the alluring blackness of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, Wade is just sleeping his way through this fic, huh? Anyways, I promise there will be some real interaction with like dialogue and whatnot next chapter. Until then, let me know what you thought!  
> (and remember, I'm still open to suggestions about the which additions of future characters I should use)


	4. Daybreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter saves Wade's ass. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, so I have to apologize for getting this chapter to you so late. I totally meant to post it like 2 or 3 weeks ago, but I forgot. Oops. Hopefully, that means I'll get the next chapter out sooner.

It took Wade a moment to remember where he was. His head and shoulder hurt, and he was currently being rhythmically jostled against a solid wall of muscle. Something, Wade assumed it was a shoulder, was digging into his pelvis. He wiggled his hips in an effort to settle into a more comfortable position.

“I’m going to assume that you’re awake then,” came a voice from somewhere both above and behind Wade. Wade responded by groaning dramatically. “I don’t suppose you care to walk by yourself?” Peter moved his shoulder roughly in an attempt to dislodge the larger man.

Slightly put off and determined to fuck with his apparent knight in shining armor, Wade gripped tightly onto the only handholds he could find. “Hello? Who’s there? Is- is that you God?” A hand reached down to swat Wade’s hands away from the asscheeks that he had latched onto.

“It’s Peter you idiot.” Wade smirked at the exasperated tone of Peter’s voice; if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was how to get on somebody’s nerves.

“Peter?” Wade gasped in mock surprise. “Saint Peter, guardian of the pearly gates? As in heaven? Gosh, that’s a shocker, I mean seriously, who fucked up? Someone really should be fired if they think that I belong up _here._ Wait, does this mean that I’m _dead_? Oh, say it isn’t so! Please, Saint Peter, explain to me the intricate details of my mortality!”

“ _Oh_ , that _does it_!” Wade felt himself flipped up and then slammed down onto the asphalt. Too late, Wade realized that it may have been more prudent to have simply recited that lame pickup line about heaven and angels than too further provoke the obviously agitated man. “Look _pal_ , I don’t know you, and I certainly don’t _owe_ you anything. I came back for you against my better judgement.” Peter started to walk away. “If you’re going to be a moron, don’t expect me to stick around. I put my ass on the line for you once already; I’m not overly eager to do it again.” Without turning around, he flicked his hand up in a two-fingered salute. “Have fun. Don’t die.”

Wade watched as Peter started to slowly sashay away. Today just was not his day. Wade might be pretty handy with guns and swords, but that was against other humans. Clearly, he was no match for an actual honest to goodness Raider. He shuddered as he recalled the ease with which the claws had carved through his flesh.

He started to get up to follow his savior, but a painful pinching in his shoulder made him hesitate. He stayed where he was, down on all fours like a beggar groveling before a king. “Wait! Peter!” Wade forced his voice to remain strong despite the fact that he currently felt like shit run through a blender. “ _PETER_! You can’t just _leave_ me here! Not _again!_ Not…not after what happened last time.” Wade let his voice trail off as he saw the other man hesitate. It was hard for Wade to admit that he needed help at all; it always had been. But right now, forced to choose between death and the desecration of his pride, Wade would gladly choose the latter. He was a survivor, always had been. He had survived his father, he had survived the cancer, and he had survived the war. It was only thanks to Peter however, that he had survived his most recent brush with death. Without him, Wade wasn’t sure that he could survive another. Certainly not in his present condition anyways. Desperate, Wade flung out one last “Peter!” at the top of his lungs. He held his breath as Peter slowly turned back around to face him.

For a moment, neither of them so much as twitched. Peter stared back at Wade with dead eyes, and Wade stared back with eyes as bright as the surrounding daylight. Gradually, so as not to startle Peter into bolting away again, Wade let out the breath he was holding. He kept his eyes trained on the younger man, determined not to let him out of his sight. All too soon however, the tender stillness was broken as Wade once more begged Peter to stay.

“Peter, please. Don’t leave me. I need you.” Wade put all of his emotion into those last three words. Every iota of self-preservation and melancholy that he had been carrying with him pushed its way to the surface and jumped inside those three little words. He wished he could say it was powerful, touching even, but that was far from the truth. The words needled out of his mouth in a pathetic little whine, and when Wade forced his head up to gauge Peter’s reaction, he could tell that it had all been for naught. The man was gone.

“Peter! Pet-mphgh” Wade’s shouting was muffled by a grimy hand that clapped across his mouth. A very, _very_ familiar hand. He looked up in surprise at Peter glaring down at him. Peter was squeezing him just a bit too tightly, and the way he swung Wade’s chin up to look him in the eye was uncomfortable at best, but at this moment in time, Wade wouldn’t have traded it for anything else.

“Stop shouting, you idiot. Unless you _want_ to fight more Raiders? I’m sure they’d be glad to see you again. They always _love_ an easy meal.” Seeing as Peter still held control over his mouth, Wade shook his head furiously. Or at least he tried to. The kid had a grip of steel, and the best that Wade could manage was a pathetic wiggle. Peter seemed to get the message however. “Good boy.” He let go of Wade’s jaw and patted him on his cheek. “Now, either put up or shut up. I don’t need any liabilities. Seriously though, can you walk? ‘Cause I mean, I may be strong, but you could also stand to lose a few pounds.”

“What? I am not overweight!” Wade smoothed a hand down his pectorals and slapped his abdomen. “This is all muscle baby! I’m talking a primo-cut piece of Grade-A angus beef steak here!” Wade bit back the urge to add ‘and just as delicious’ for fear of losing him again. As it was, his comments earned him a less than subtle eye roll. “Seriously though, I’m good to walk. In excruciating pain, sure, but yeah, good to go.” Forgetting about his shoulder, Wade thumped his fist against his chest in a manly display and promptly collapsed on the ground from shock.

Peter shook his head. “You are a fucking idiot.”

“So you’ve said. Repeatedly. You really aren’t a very nice person.” Seeing as Peter wasn’t planning on helping him up anytime soon, Wade was forced to stagger up on his own.

“Nice gets people killed.”

“It also gets you friends. Vinegar? Not so much.

“Yeah, well, I’m not your honey, so stop pretending that I am.” Peter opened his mouth to say something else, but suddenly his eyes widened and he clamped his mouth shut. He motioned for Wade to get behind him. Looking over his shoulder, it was immediately apparent what had cause Peter’s shift in mood.

It was a Raider. It seemed smaller than the one they had encountered earlier, and not nearly as scary looking. For one thing, its eyes seemed comically large for its strangely narrow head and for another, its claws weren’t the terrifying meter sticks of death Wade had faced earlier, but rather the much smaller and thankfully less intimidating kitchen knives of destruction.

Wade grinned beneath his mask and squared his shoulders. Knives he could handle. He draped himself across Peter’s shoulders, taking full advantage of the stability the younger man provided and slowly withdrew his gun from its holster on his right leg. Cautiously, he took aim and pulled the trigger.

It was a perfect shot. A small blue hole appeared on the Raider’s head, perfectly centered between its many eyes, Wade noted proudly, and started to grow bigger as it continued to bleed. The Raider took a confused step. And then, as Wade watched in horror, it took another. The raider shook its head, presumably to get the blood out of its eyes, and locked gazes with Wade.

Shit.

It let out a wheezing growl, not quite as full bodied as Wade had expected; but then, he had just shot it in the head. The noise might have even been cute if it weren’t for the fact that the Raider was now lunging toward them as fast as it could over the uneven ground; its eager claws flexed and ready to strike.

Wade shrieked. A _manly_ shriek mind you, and proceeded to empty the remainder of his clip into the beast. After three more rounds to the head, the Raider finally faltered just short of eviscerating them both and collapsed to the ground. Relieved, Wade turned to Peter who in turn looked back at him less than pleased.

“What, _the fuck_ did you just do?” Peter asked, his hands clenching at his sides.

“Um, I just saved both our sorry asses, thank you very much. You know, a little _gratitude_ wouldn’t hurt.” He waggled his eyebrows and moved his hips in such a way that it would be impossible for Peter not to grasp what exactly it was that he had in mind.

Either Peter didn’t notice or, quite possibly, didn’t care because the next words out of his mouth were far from romantic. “You fucking idiot. You just killed us both.”

“Uh, _no_ , I saved us both. Didn’t you see my awesome and, if I may be so bold as to add, _incredibly sexy_ marksmanship skills?”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Peter growled lowly as he tackled Wade. “Didn’t your mama teach you nothin’?” Wade’s stomach was thrown for a loop as he suddenly felt his feet leave the ground. He looked down and-wow. They were _really_ high up. He turned and clung to peter with all four limbs and shut his eyes tightly, suddenly afraid that Peter intended to teach him a most painful, _permanent_ lesson. He winced as his shoulder started to throb again. It wasn’t nearly as painful as before, but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. Ignoring the pain in favor of not falling to his death, Wade gripped onto the other man as tight as he could. Apparently satisfied that the merc wasn’t going anywhere, Peter let go of him.

Wade cracked an eye open. They weren’t just going up as he had previously thought. Now that both arms were free, Peter was using them to _swing._ Wade stared in bewilderment at the stringy material the man seemed to be shooting out of his wrist. No, not his _wrist_ , but rather the strange gadget encircling it. Wade looked on in fascination as Peter’s middle fingers would brush against his palm at the apex of each swing and in turn seem to trigger some sort of release mechanism that ejected the white substance at a nearby building. He was about to ask Peter what they were when he realized that the other man was talking and probably had been this entire time.

“-seriously, don’t go out after dawn, don’t make loud noises, don’t get the gremlins wet. Did you just crawl out of a hole or something? Isn’t that like, the first lesson in survival 101?”

“I forgot,” Wade muttered, half hoping Peter couldn’t hear him.

“You forgot?! How the hell do you forget something like that? How are you even still alive?” Apparently, Wade could add super hearing in addition to super strength and wonderfully well-defined muscles to this kid’s resume.

Wade thunked his head into the kid’s armpit, unwilling to answer. Peter gave a brief grunt of discomfort, but thankfully dropped the subject.

“Look, you may be a moron, but at least you’re a moron with eyes. Tell me if you see any trouble, would ’ya?” Peter requested conversationally, as if his current acrobatic feats were no less strenuous than a midday stroll. Wade nodded into his side and cracked an eye open.

“Trouble…you mean like that pack of Raiders to your right? The ones with exceedingly large and pointy teeth that look hungry?”

Wade felt more than saw Peter look over. “Shit. Okay, hold on tight. Trust me, I don’t want to catch you any more than you want to be dropped.” The raiders had managed to crawl all the way up to eye level. Wade counted maybe six or seven, which in his opinion, was six or seven too many. They shouldn’t really cause that much of a problem though, they were still a good distance away, and it wasn’t like they could jump…

Oh. _Oh_. That’s what had Peter so on edge. Not the Raiders to the side, but the ones in front of them. Crawling on the building where Peter had attached his…sticky-line-thing.

“Uh, Peter, they’re about to-”

“Wade, I _know_. Please, just hold _on_.” It was at that moment that a single deft claw snapped the line and sent the boys into freefall. Peter snagged the next building over and did his best to launch them _away_ from certain death and Wade attempted to do his best impression of a koala.

He knew there were more Raiders hiding just out of sight simply by the never ending stream of expletives pouring out of Peter’s mouth and that they often came just a bit too close by the amount of flipping and dodging that Peter was currently doing. He supposed that he could be helping, or at least keep his eyes open to act as a warning system, but Peter seemed to be doing just fine on his own and Wade _really_ didn’t feel like throwing up at that particular moment in time. Maybe later, when he wasn’t upside down and being treated like the world’s most useless backpack.

Eventually though, the crazy spinning stopped, the ride smoothed out and Wade was able to open his eyes again. “Hey, uh, where are we going? Is it much farther? ‘Cause my arms are getting kind of tired and I would really appreciate not dying today.”

Peter snorted. “It’s not much farther, and thanks to your shenanigans back there, we actually made better time than usual. It’s that smaller building up ahead.” He nodded his head in the direction they were headed.

“And this would be behind the bank?” Wade inquired.

“Nope.” Peter’s last swing brought them closer to the ground and he dropped easily into a practiced crouch. “You can get off now. We’re here. Home sweet home.”

Wade took a moment to remember how to move his limbs and managed to, miraculously, disentangle himself with some semblance of grace.

“You, you live _here?_ Why?” Wade spluttered, staring up at the needlessly detailed engravings scattered around the giant double doors hanging askew in what served as the entrance to a behemoth of a bank. “I mean, surely there was an abandoned apartment or penthouse or even an RV nearby.”

“Why live in a bank? Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but things have a way of getting destroyed around here.” Wade glanced around and noted how trashed the surrounding area was. Peter shrugged. “Banks are built sturdy. They’re safe. Beats living out in the woods, at any rate. No offense.”

“None taken. You guys have your method of survival, I have mine. So far, it hasn’t gotten me killed, so I think I’m doing just fine.” Peter glanced behind them. “Speaking of survival, I think it best if we continue this conversation inside. We may not have left a scent trail, one of the many benefits of web-slinging, but they sure as hell recognized me, and they _definitely_ know where I live.” He frowned at the pedestal he had been leaning on and stroked the misshapen lump of marble on it. “Stupid Raiders broke my favorite lion.” He gave it one last pat and trudged up the stairs. Following him, Wade could see just how much damage this place had taken. The doors weren’t just in disrepair, they had literally been torn off of their hinges. He could see the claw marks etched into the door and marring the surrounding engravings. He was just about to ask how a place with no doors could be considered safe, when an ominous hissing noise made them both freeze.

“Fuck me sideways,” Wade muttered. “Not again.” This Raider was huge. It must have been hiding up on the roof waiting for them, because it now filled the doorway, effectively trapping them inside. “I hope you have a plan, Wonderboy, because I sure as shit don’t.”

“Yeah, I do.” Peter replied equally as soft. He fisted his hand into Wade’s shirt and _yanked_. Follow me!” He took off sprinting down the hallway and Wade was forced to follow, the Raider hot on his heels.

“How the hell is this a plan?!?!” Wade yelled after him, struggling to keep up. Fortunately, the Raider’s immense size seemed to be giving him trouble as he wasn’t able to make the sharp turns in the narrow hallway quite as fast as Wade, and it seemed to be having trouble finding purchase on the smooth floors.

Eventually, Wade managed to catch up to Peter who was standing next to an open bank vault. “Get in, Peter commanded, jerking his head toward the cell. “But wipe your feet first. I literally just swept the floors, and I have no intention of doing it again today.

Wade glance down to see a tattered doormat. “What? But-”

“I SAID WIPE YOUR FUCKING FEET, WADE!” Peter shouted as the Raider turned the corner. Wade hurriedly knocked the dirt off his boots and leaped inside the vault, Peter spilling in right after him. A reverberating boom shook the room as the door was slammed shut. Hurriedly, Peter keyed a code into the pad by the door and a loud clicking noise was heard.

Peter turned and slumped against the door wearily. “See? I told you I had a plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to push the last bit of exposition to the next chapter, so don't worry, pretty much all of your questions will be answered then. At least the important ones, there are just some things I don't want you knowing. Anyways, I'm getting to the actual plot in like, at MAX, 3 chapters, but most likely 2 (I really do promise this time), so buckle up and enjoy the ride!


	5. The Vault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Peter spend some quality alone time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm not going to lie. This chapter is pretty dry and mainly serves as the last of the exposition. There isn't too much plot relevant stuff that happens in this chapter, but it's still important to the story.

Peter had done his best to make the vault comfortable. That much was apparent. There were blankets and pillows strewn everywhere and a few brass floor lamps placed strategically around the room. Not that the room was all that big; It was maybe the size of a large college dorm room. Fine for one person maybe, but definitely cramped with two.

Peter flopped himself down into the mess of blankets and Wade busied himself with exploring his new surroundings. No need to waste perfectly good personal space.

There were two large bookcases tucked against the far wall next to a well-loved recliner. Wade started his examination there. Upon closer inspection, Wade realized that only one of them actually contained books. The other one held various canned goods.

“Dang, baby boy. You’re one hell of a scavenger aren’t you?” He chuckled.

Peter rolled his eyes and busied himself with rummaging through one of the many trunks that lined the walls. “Yeah,” came his muffled reply. “That tends to happen when you’re forced into a survival situation. Hey, would you mind plugging in that cord over there? I can’t see shit.”

Wade looked around but failed to see what Peter was referring to. “Umm, where is it?” He called hesitantly. “I, uh, I’m in unfamiliar territory here.”

“It’s behind you.”

Wade looked behind him and sure enough, there was the electrical cord that Peter had been referring to. Fortunately, finding the outlet was much easier. Not that it was attached to the wall. It was part of a small blue plastic box that had wires running out of it. Peter must have installed it himself, Wade mused. It wasn’t particularly elegant, but hey, these days elegance was a luxury most couldn’t afford. He plugged the cord into the box and looked up in surprise as the room got marginally brighter.

The entire ceiling was _covered_ in Christmas lights. Most of them were of the small white variety, but he could see a few strands of colored bulbs mixed in. Hell, there were even some of the twinkly ones that always reminded him of falling snow. Altogether, there must have been at least fifty strands.

“How the hell are you powering this?” Wade asked, aghast.

“I built a generator about a month ago. It’s not the most reliable thing, but it’s infinitely better than car batteries. One can only get so many electrical burns before they start to explore other options.

“You built a generator?!” Wade exclaimed. “How?”

Peter snorted, “What, like it’s hard?” He snickered, “Nah, I’m just fucking with you. Sorry. I ended up raiding the hardware stores after I found this book about machines. It was really dry. Seriously, that thing was probably the single dullest book I have ever read, but it did give me enough info to at least get the general concept of what needed to be done. After that, it was just trial and error. Kept me busy at any rate,” he shrugged, “it gets boring being trapped in here.” He grinned up at his ceiling. “It might not be the most powerful thing, but you can’t deny the results.”

Wow. Wade had met some impressive people in his time, but Peter put a great many of them to shame. “Er, yeah,” he managed to stammer out. “It’s alright.” Alright? It was damn amazing was what it was.

He completed his short tour of the room and returned to sit down next to Peter. “So, a month, huh? You lived here long?” Wade kept his tone light. He was aiming to start a dialogue, not interrogate the kid.

“You might say that,” Peter sighed. He stopped rummaging through the trunk and triumphantly pulled out a small bag. “Take off your shirt.” Wade furrowed his brow in confusion but kept quiet waiting for Peter to answer his question.

“Seriously. You got stabbed. I need to patch you up.”

Wade continued to stare at him in silence.

“Ugh, fine. Stop staring. It’s not like it matters anyway.” Peter threw his head into his hands. It’s been…six months? Maybe? I used to keep track of the days, but after a while it just felt pointless, you know?” No, Wade didn’t know, but he definitely knew others who did. “Now seriously, I don’t want you bleeding everywhere.”

Wade whistled as he removed his top, “six months, huh? That’s still pretty recent. Did anyone you know make it out?”

“No,” Peter grunted. “They didn’t.” He turned his gaze to Wade’s shoulder and started to clean it. Wade didn’t push Peter further. Most people didn’t make it out of their cities once the Raiders decided to take it over. As sad as it was, Peter’s tale was far from unique.

“Huh, I thought this was worse than it actually is. It’s still going to scar something terrible and I’m actually out of bandages at the moment, but I don’t think you need stitches.”

The sat in an awkward silence for a minutes before Peter spoke again. “So, uh, how long have _you_ gone without running water?”

Wade forced a grin onto his face. Peter was trying to make nice, he should too. “Now that’s a tricky question,” Wade started as Peter finished scrubbing his wound.

“You see, I had running water even after I left my city.”

Peter’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought they didn’t have much of anything out on the reservations,” he asked in puzzlement.

Wade nodded, “No, they don’t. This was before I started living there. Like, years before.”

“Years?” Peter questioned.

“Yeah, five of them.”

“Dang. That’s…I’m sorry.” Peter’s voice was soft and soothing, but Wade didn’t want his pity.

“Eh, don’t be,” Wade replied. “It was my own choice. There were…extenuating circumstances.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Short story of it was, I was sick, someone said they could make me better. Anyway, all that isn’t exactly relevant and I’d rather not get into it.”

Peter hummed in acknowledgement. “So that’s the reason for all the uh…” Peter gestured to his face, unsure of exactly how to finish his sentence.

Wade gritted his teeth. “I said I don’t want to talk about it,” he groused bitterly.

“So that’s a yes,” Peter inferred and closed his lips in a tight little smile. Wade ignored him.

“Anyways, after whatever happened happened, I found myself in need of some new living arrangements. I ended up on the outskirts of the Capitol and fell in with a rather interesting crowd. We were quite the rebels,” Wade chuckled at his own little joke. Looking back at Peter it was obvious that the joke was entirely lost on him.

“You lived in the Capitol?” Peter asked in surprise. “Forgive me for saying so, but you really don’t seem like the type.”

“Wow. Ouch. You wound me, Peter. You’re saying I don’t look like the kind of guy that gets a deep tissue massage twice a week and has more hats than there are days of the week? I don’t eat caviar for brunch? Oh, my vanity.” Wade clutched at his chest and gave a few halfhearted hacks to make his point.

Peter was not amused. “Not everyone in the Capitol is like that,” he said, put off.

“Oh, and you would know? I mean, forgive _me_ for saying so, but they don’t usually let ghetto rats into their perfect shining metropolis.

“Anyways, I didn’t live _in_ the Capitol. Hell, I wasn’t even technically in the metropolis. You think they’d let someone with my butter-face in past the gates?” He tried to sound indifferent, but the fact of the matter was that they _had_ refused him - quite harshly in fact. It wasn’t one of his most pleasant memories. “Nah, it’s hard enough to get in. I mean, if it were easy, all the refugees would do it.”

“Some people manage it,” Peter countered.

Wade snorted. “Sure, if you got resources and connections. My broke ass had nothing but pocket lint and fifty cents.”

“Money? What the hell were you carrying money around for? Money’s been obsolete for decades!”

“Not decades. Years,” Wade corrected.

Peter made a noise in the back of his throat that was somewhere between a groan and a sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re seriously one of _those_ people.” He griped and fell backwards into his nest.

“Those people?” Wade inquired, even though he knew full well what Peter was referring to. “You mean one of the people that actually knows what the fuck is going on in this brainwashed shit storm of a country?”

“No, I mean one of the delusional idiots that believes in the crackpot conspiracy theories and runs around mucking up the lives of others with their stupid lies.” Peter countered and narrowed his eyes in exasperation. “Seriously, next you’re going to tell me that you actually believe in Utopia too.” He looked at Wade expectantly.

“What, like there’s a problem believing in a better world? One without the Raiders? What’s so horrible about that? It sounds nice.” Wade knew he was just feeding the fire, but really, he didn’t care. He was just so _done_ with everyone’s apparent memory loss. He _remembered_ goddammit. He wasn’t about to let some punk ass _spider_ ridicule him for it.

“So you really do believe in the old religion. I didn’t know there was anyone that even still had faith in it.”

“Religion? That’s what they’re calling it now?” Wade cackled. “It’s the truth, baby boy. Im’ma level with you though. All that Utopia bullcrap? That’s just wishful thinking. It’s the same kind of fairy thoughts that leads to people to moving to other cities when theirs gets decimated instead of wising up and moving out to a reservation. It’s the kind of thing that gets people killed.” Wade paused, considering. “All that other stuff is true though. I remember a time before the Raiders.”

“Then you must be fucking old,” Peter replied icily, but dropped the subject nonetheless.

“So, uh, are you going to tell me how you got superpowers?” Wade asked. “Or are we just going to ignore what just happened earlier?”

Peter made a noncommittal grunt. “What’s wrong with ignoring it? It’s not like I owe you anything.” Wade quirked an eyebrow.

“Ugh, fine. I got bit by an irradiated spider.”

“You, uh, what?”

“You heard me.”

“Okay, well that’s…weird.”

“Tell me about it. The super strength really helps with avoiding the Raiders, though. Plus, I made these web-shooters to help me get around.” Peter raised his wrist for Wade to take a closer look. Wade had to admit, they were pretty impressive, and not just because they had saved his life earlier.

“So uh, yeah. I’ll give you directions back to the nearest reservation in the morning, but you can make yourself at home for now. I know those of you who live on the reservations prefer to sleep at night, but I’m going to bed. You can help yourself to any of my books or video games if you want. Just stay out of my food.”

“Uh, sure. Um, goodnight.”

“Night,” Peter called and went over to lay down on a mattress snuggled away in the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, I should have the next chapter posted really soon. It's almost finished- I just have some editing to do. It should be up in just a day or two and I promise I actually start to introduce the plot.


	6. Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade, now once again back on the reservation, finds himself with an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter starts with Wade already back on the reservation. I know it's sudden, but just roll with it. I really didn't feel like writing the return trip. Also...be warned. This chapter earns this fic a new rating.

Wade woke to a gentle rustling outside his tent. It was dark, too dark for it to be a Raider, but even if it was, Wade couldn’t imagine that the Watch wouldn’t have alerted the whole camp by now. There really wasn’t any danger of Raiders reaching them way out here, they preferred to stick to their cities. Roughing it up in the woods wasn’t really their style. Some theorized that the stone and destruction found in urban areas more closely resembled their home world, but that was just speculation at best. No one really knew for sure.

So yeah, not a Raider and probably not some random predator either. The night watch was much smaller than that of the day (for obvious reasons) but those in it were some of the most paranoid people Wade had ever met. They all had good reasons for being so; most of which were familial deaths. Nothing got past them anymore. Which meant, that if something _was_ skulking around outside his tent, it was most likely a person.

“Hello?” He called out softly into the darkness. “Is somebody there?” He held his breath as the zipper on his tent twitched open and he fingered the dagger he kept under his pillow. He hadn’t had need to use it yet, at least not here, but as the silence stretched on and the zipper pull continued its slow journey down, he suddenly found himself wondering if maybe  it would finally see some action. It was just a matter of time, after all. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

He had just made up his mind that yes, this was in fact a malicious being who sought to do him harm, when a cautious head poked into the tent.

“Peter?!” Wade was aghast. “What the _fuck_ are you _doing_ here?!”

Peter stepped nervously into the tent and looked around, drinking in the sight of Wade’s meager belongings. He tilted his head ever so slightly and Wade’s breath hitched. “I came looking for you,” Peter said slowly, tasting the words on his tongue as if they were his first. “This place…this is your domicile, yes?”

He fixed Wade with a look so intense that Wade felt his breath hitch. Peter was acting way different than he had earlier. He was tempted to attribute it to unfamiliar surroundings, but that look that Peter was giving him…that look spoke volumes and made his heart flutter in anticipation. “Y-yes. This is where I live. This is, uh, hey-what’cha think you’re doin’ there?” Peter turned around from where he had been zipping the tent closed.

He gave Wade a small smile. “Would you prefer to be disturbed?” He inquired as the zipper drew closed with a soft click of finality.

“Disturbed doing what?” Wade asked even as the other man settled himself over his lap.

“I would have thought that obvious by now” Peter laughed into the merc’s ear as he started to gently roll his hips. “Unless of course, you don’t want to. Although,” Peter grinned as Wade reached up to cup his cheeks in wordless wonder. “I rather doubt that is the case.”

For once in his life, Wade was speechless. He struggled to find the words to stop this, to stop Peter from doing something that he’d regret, but even as he searched, his hands slid down that smooth, sculpted torso and back up to fist in his stupidly beautiful hair. Just the feeling of muscles moving beneath his palms was enough to halt Wade’s more rational trains of thought. Instead, of the _how_ , he focused on the _why_. Because there was abso- _fucking_ -lutely no way that this godlike visage before him was lusting for him. Never mind the fact that he was _here_ , in Wade’s own tent; he had to have some ulterior motive or, or- sex pollen. That was a thing, right?

“Why? Why me? Why now?” Wade silently chided himself for letting his insecurity bleed through his façade. “I mean-”

“Shhh.” Peter pressed a slender finger against Wade’s lips, effectively rendering him silent. “Don’t ruin this. It’s been such a long time and I _need_ this.” His next gyration was long and slow, effectively showing Wade just _how much_ Peter needed him. “We seem to get along well enough, can’t we just-?” Peter’s voice turned into a whine and he visibly shuddered as his slow teasing became too much. He halted and backed slightly away. “Please Wade, I need this. I need _you_. Right. Fucking. _Now_.”

Wade hesitated. This…this was unreal. He had been lusting after the guy since he had first laid eyes on him, sure. But to actually have him _here_? He needed a moment for his brain to process what was happening. He peered up at where Peter crouched over him and relished the feeling of smooth flesh sliding down his abdomen. He felt the cool brush of silk on his thigh as Peter slowly drew away the thin sheet separating them.

“Wade, please, before I go any further, I have to know. Is this _okay_?” Peter’s voice was raspy with lust and filled with need, but Wade was reluctant to speak.

 No, this was not _okay_. This was at least three thousand miles from being _okay._ They had just met yesterday for crying out loud! There was no way that this was anything other than a booty call and whatever people might think, Wade just wasn’t the kind of person that could deal with the inevitable rejection come the next morning. No, this had to stop. But as he stared into the angelic face observing his own and then followed Peter’s gaze as it trailed down to stare hungrily at his admittedly erect cock, he knew there was only one answer he _could_ give.

“Yes,” he croaked out. Peter grinned and without hesitation sheathed Wade fully inside his mouth.

 _Mmmmm_ , Peter sighed happily as he drew his mouth back in a long, slow motion only to immediately suck Wade to the back of his throat once more. Wade shivered as he felt Peter’s nimble hands grasp him and begin to pump him in time with his mouth.

Wade gave up trying to crane his neck forward trying to watch Peter and instead laid back heavily onto his pillow and let himself revel in the feeling of the moment.

It was wonderful.

Within a minute or so, Peter popped off with a filthy slurp and brought himself into Wade’s field of vision. “Hey, is it okay if we take this a little farther? I mean, it’s cool if you don’t want to, but while you’ve been moaning, I’ve been busy prepping myself, and uh, not be rude or anything, but I’m feeling a little neglected here.”

Wade, currently unable to make any vocalizations that weren’t moans or worshipful expletives, merely nodded emphatically. Peter grinned and sank himself down onto Wade delightfully, but excruciatingly, slowly.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Wade moaned and fluttered his eyes closed in bliss.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Peter teased and tilted Wade’s head up by his chin so they could look eye to eye. Wade’s breath hitched as they locked gazes. Peter had the most _beautiful_ eyes. They were just a shade darker than his cinnamon hair, but infinitely more delicious. They were bright and shining and seemed so deep that Wade had a sudden and strange desire to go swimming. Wade might have been loving what Peter was currently doing to his nether regions, but it were those eyes that was making his heart flutter.

He was absolute fucking perfection.

All too soon, however the moment ended. Not that that was a bad thing. It meant that Wade got to see the way the tendons in Peter’s neck strained as he tossed his head back and his mouth formed that cute little ‘O’. _Fuck_ , he hadn’t even touched the guy. That realization was enough to send him over the edge and with just a few more thrusts he climaxed as well, burying himself deep into the amazingness that called itself Peter. His whole body tensed, and as he slid out and started to come down, he realized that his hands had, at some point, been pinned above his head.

He looked back up, expecting to be greeted once more by those incredible hazel eyes, but felt instead a soft touch on his lips, Wade grinned (not the best thing to do in the middle of a kiss, but Peter didn’t seem to mind) and went with it.

The sex had been slow and sensual, and the kiss was no different. Whatever Peter had claimed, this wasn’t a kiss driven by need and desperation. Wade had been on the receiving end of those kisses more often than not. No, this was the kind of kiss that he himself gave, long, lingering and begging for love and comfort.

This was the kind of kiss he understood. Which is why it came as no surprise to Wade that, when he broke their clasped hands, Peter allowed Wade to roll them over and deepen the kiss.

It didn’t last long, and both were content to leave it at that, but Wade smiled as Peter threw an arm around him and pulled him closer as they drifted off. Wade nuzzled back into his embrace.

Things were starting to look up.

 

Xxxxx

 

It was dawn by the time Wade woke up. He shifted happily and groggily reached for the body sleeping next to him.

His hand met nothing but air.

Wade jolted awake in an instant and scanned his tent for any sign of Peter. Finding nothing greeting him but the cold steel of his weapon’s cache, he wrapped his sheet around him and exited his tent.

“Looks like someone had fun last night,” Tony greeted him as he stepped out into the blinding daylight.

Wade hummed noncommittedly. “Not now, Tasky. I’m looking for someone.”

Tony snorted. “Since when are you unable to walk and talk at the same time?” He asked, easily falling into step beside Wade. “If memory serves, it’s getting you to shut up that’s the problem.”

Wade glared at him. “Oh, like you’re one to talk, Mr. I-cum-so-loud-I-wake-the-neighbors.”

Tony barked out a churlish laugh. “Sure, but I could have done _without_ the running commentary.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “You know you loved it.” And he definitely had, or at least he had loved inventing new and creative ways to _get_ Wade to shut up. Nine times out of ten, that meant shoving a dick down his throat. Friends were great and all, but friends with benefits were better.

With a sinking feeling, Wade realized that he and Peter’s relationship was quickly headed down the same path. Which, as fun as that sounded, was the exact opposite of what he wanted. For once in his life, Wade wanted something _real_. He wanted someone he could count on to be by his side, not just where the money was. As loathe as he was to endure Tony’s teasings, he would be even sorrier if he were to let this boy slip through his fingers.

“Tony,” Wade’s voice carried a now panicked edge to it as he dug his fingers into the muscle of the other man’s arm. “Please tell me you’ve seen a brown haired kid- maybe eighteen or twenty, twenty two? Something like that? I _have_ to find him.”

Tony shook his head. “Sorry, Wade, I didn’t see anyone, and _trust me_ , I was looking.” Wade decided to ignore the stalkery implications of that statement and instead tried to focus his efforts on where Peter might have gone. He cast his gaze around the clearing, but saw nothing in the gentle dawn that hinted at Peter’s whereabouts. His superior tracking skills failing him, Wade decided to call upon his next greatest strength instead: his voice.

“PETER!!! PEEETER!” Wade called out across the camp causing more than a few disgruntled heads to poke out of the nearby tents. “Peter, get your sexy ass back here right fucking now!!” Off to his right, Wade caught a glimpse of a mother protectively covering her daughter’s ears. “Oh, yeah, heaven forbid she hears some _fucking_ swear words. It’s not like it’s the bloody _apocalypse_ or nothin’! No, people are dying left and right in this piss-ridden shit stain of a country, but heaven forbid some _jackass_ _cocksucker_ like myself comes out and starts flinging profanity around! Get your priorities in order, you rat-fink _cunt_!” Wade stood there, glaring until the mother had shooed her kid away, flipped him the bird, and left.

“Uh, Wade? Something you want to get off your chest? You seem more…aggravated than normal. Just who was this kid?” Wade looked down at Tasky and realized that at some time during his little tirade he had managed to scale halfway up the nearest pile of foodstuffs and was just inches away from stepping into an open crate of cabbages. Somewhat sheepish, he clambered down and parked himself in front of Tony.

He rubbed at his face as he did his best to calm his heartbeat. He hadn’t had an episode like this in _months_. He was usually pretty good about keeping his emotions in check, so why the hell were they acting up _now_? What exactly was it about Peter that had him playing the fool again all of a sudden?

“I. Don’t. Know.” Wade managed to spit out. “His name is Peter. He has radioactive spider powers, and he just had sex with me. That is all I know. That’s all he’s deigned to tell me. It’s driving me _insane_.”

Tony gave Wade a long look. He clapped his hand down on Wade’s shoulder and just stood like that for a moment, rocking him back and forth as he determined how to best phrase his response. Wade focused his gaze on the corner of Tony’s jaw, the only patch of skin he could see out from under that infernal mask of his, and watched as the muscle there twitched in exasperation. Tony might have been known for a lot of things, a sell-sword first and his bum-buddy last, but no one ever accused him of getting to a point _quickly_. If Wade knew Tony, and he liked to think that he did, then he was most likely going to have to sit through some long winded speech before he ever discovered exactly what it was that was troubling him. Wade’s eyes glazed over and he swore he could literally _feel_ his skin cells sloughing off of his body.

“You know,” Tony said at last. “You weren’t exactly in the best frame of mind when you left here. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that you decided to start swinging around literal bazookas at us, I don’t think there were many of us that would have let you leave.”

Oh great, it was going to be one of _these_ talks. Wade knew he was a few doughnuts short of a dozen. He didn’t need anyone reminding him of that. What’s worse, was it looked as if Tasky was gearing up to dish out some well-intentioned _advice_.

“And then when you didn’t come home…well, we figured the Raiders had gotten you.” Tony finished.

“And what, exactly, are you getting at here, Tasky?” Wade questioned suspiciously. He could see that whatever it was, Tony seemed almost… _afraid_ of voicing it. He supposed it wasn’t without reason, but still…he didn’t kill friends. Usually. He tried not to make a habit out of it anyway. The last thing he needed to be in this world was alone.

Tony just shrugged. “Just that you aren’t exactly known for making rational decisions. And…well, you don’t exactly have the best track record with sanity either.”

“So what, I made the whole thing up? I suffered through hours of abject terror just for funsies? Is that what you’re telling me?” Wade sneered.

“Wade,” Tony sighed wearily. “Listen to yourself. You’re saying you just slept with a man with _radioactive spider powers_. You were gone for _two whole days_. I’m not saying you made the whole thing up, per se, just that your mind might be playing tricks on you. Remember all that nonsense you were spouting just last month? About how none of this is real and we were all just characters in a book? You were convinced that all that was real too.”

“It wasn’t a book, it was a fanfiction,” Wade mumbled.

Tony ignored him. “And you _still_ think you’re a part of that rebel force that hangs out around the Capitol.”

“No, no I’m not,” Wade interjected angrily. “I left.”

“Oh, like they would just let you leave.” Tony sniffed.

“There were…extenuating circumstances.” As close as he and Tony had grown during Wade’s time at the reservation, there were still some secrets that Wade kept to himself. Namely, those involving a tall well-built mutant with telekinetic powers and an eye that occasionally glowed. It wasn’t that Wade didn’t trust Tony; he definitely didn’t. It was more the fact that Wade hated feeling weak, and no one made him feel weaker than Nate. The last thing he needed was someone using that information against him.

“And maybe I would actually believe that if you would tell me what they were. Look, Wade…” Tony trailed off and gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder to try and ease the tension he had inadvertently created. “I’m trying to be your friend here, you don’t have to make it so difficult. I’m not saying you weren’t attacked, I’m just saying maybe not everything happened how you thought it did. Things seem different in the heat of the moment.”

“But I was penetrated!” Wade protested even as he bit back a snicker. _Heh_. _Penetrated_. He dropped his protective sheet to reveal where the Raider had stabbed him just yesterday. He wasn’t too worried about his fellow refugees seeing him naked; those that had had any qualms about it had long since relocated to the other side of the camp. Except for Tony, of course. He had moved closer.

“See, right here!” Wade jabbed at his shoulder as Tony frowned and moved in for a closer look. “He turned me into a human shish-kebab, but my little Petey pie swooped in and saved me! It was totally heroic and _totally_ hot.” Wade’s mouth went dry just remembering it.

“Wade,” Tony said slowly. “There’s nothing there. A wound like that… You should be dead, and if not that, there should at least be some sort of a scar. But… there’s nothing there.” Wade frowned and looked at where he remembered the claw of the Raider slicing into him. True enough, there was not even a slight blemish. If anything, the area was slightly smoother than the rest of him.

“Well, maybe you just can’t see it? I mean, I got one hell of a skin condition, maybe it just…disappeared?” Wade could hear the doubt even in his own voice and he didn’t even need to look at Tony’s face to feel his blatant disbelief.

“Wade, there is no way a wound like _that_ could heal up like _this_. There’s just no way. I’m sorry, but maybe whatever you thought _happened_ …”

“Didn’t happen?” Wade finished for him and shook his head. “Look, I’m willing to acknowledge that maybe my memory’s a little bit faulty and events might not have gone down exactly as I remember them. But there is _no way_ in _hell_ that I made this up. Look, you said so yourself, right? I look well sexed.”

Tony stared back at him blankly. “You always look well-sexed.”

Wade didn’t feel the need to dignify that with a response. Taskmaster was an asshole. A _jealous_ asshole, Wade realized. “Aaaw, is someone feeling a widdle left out?” Wade mocked. “Is that envy I do detect?”

“Wade-”

“Shut it, Tasky. A girl can only drink so much milk before she’s gonna want to buy the cow. Someone else is revving my engine now. Deal with it. Now make yourself scarce before he comes back. I don’t need you scaring him away.” Wade shooed him away with a quick dismissive motion. It didn’t matter that what he had with Peter was no more real than what he had with Tony. It was tangible and that made it somewhat substantial in his mind.

“He’s coming back? I thought you said he left.”

Wade pouted.  “Yeah well, I’m not going to pretend to know his every manly urge.” He rolled his eyes. “He probably just had to pee.”

Taskmaster gave a long suffering sigh. “Look, Wade,” he managed in what he considered his least patronizing voice. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. If this Peter character is taking advantage of you; if he’s lying or just letting you believe whatever, I don’t care.  Please, just do me a favor and leave. I don’t want to see you hurt.” Tony gave him one of his signature eyebrow-nods, Wade could tell by the way his mask wiggled up his face, and turned away.

Wade watched him stride heavily away. _Poor Tasky_ , he thought. _He really_ must _be lonely if he’s actually taking the time to care about_ me. He shrugged and resumed his search.

“Peter! Where the fuck did you go!” He called out once more into the morning mist.

“You don’t have to shout, I’m right here,” came a voice disturbingly close to Wade’s ear.

“Gaaaah!” Wade shrieked in shock and whirled around to embrace Peter. “Ah! I’m sorry! I didn’t know you were there! Where did you go?”

Peter shrugged. “I had to pee. Didn’t seem quite sanitary to do it next to the food, so I ducked around the next cluster of tents.” He craned his neck out from under Wade’s arms to watch as Tony’s cloak whisked around the corner. “Who were to talking to just now? I didn’t quite catch _all_ of what you were saying, but you sounded pretty upset.”

“Oh, that. Yeah, that was just Taskmaster. He-he means well, really. Sometimes he can get a little carried away though.” Wade mumbled, somewhat distracted by the intoxicating scent of Peter’s hair. _Soap_ , he thought distantly. _I bet he uses soap_.

“Carried away? How?” Peter questioned.

For a moment, Wade considered not telling him what Taskmaster had accused him of. It only took one look into those unbelievable puddle-of-chocolate eyes however, and Wade found himself blurting out, “he’s accusing you of taking advantage of me. Of using me for my body.” Wade cringed inwardly. He definitely could have phrased that better.

“He’s accusing me of rape.”

Wade winced. “Well, not _rape_ exactly.”

“Sexual assault then. Harassment. Whatever.”

“Well, I think that’s putting it a little harshly,” Wade dribbled out.

“Wade, did I do anything that you did not want me to do? That you were unhappy with?” Peter asked, turning to look him dead in the eyes. “Because if I did, know that I am truly, deeply, sorry.”

Wade gaped at him. How could he think that? “No, No! Sorry! I just wasn’t expecting- I mean, you’re absolutely- You just- Pretty.” Peter giggled at him as he fussed his hands lightly over every inch of Peter’s smooth creamy skin. The white of his teeth caught the sun as he laughed and Wade marveled at how the reflection glistened over the soil. The flush in his cheeks perfectly matched the pink of his lips and Wade found it once again ridiculously hard not to just stay staring at him with his mouth absurdly agape just _staring_ at him.

“Well let’s call him back then, shall we! Taskmaster! Get your fugly ass back here and let’s straighten this thing out!” Peter shouted that last part in the direction he had seen Taskmaster disappear.

“Yeah!” Wade joined in. “Get back here, Tasky! There’s someone I want you to meet! He’s fucking _adorable_ , and sassy as hell!” Wade smirked down at Peter and ducked down a few inches to steal a quick kiss. “Sorry,” he whispered. “I just couldn’t resist.”

Peter grinned and pecked him right back. “Neither could I,” he whispered just as softly.

“Okay, Wade.” Wade whipped his head up to see a vexed Taskmaster situated in front of him. “Who the hell am I meeting?”

A little embarrassed, Wade straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat before continuing. “Taskmaster, I’d like you to meet Peter,” Wade gestured to the man in his arms. “Peter, I’d like you to meet Taskmaster: Tony Masters.”

“Pleased to meet you, sir,” Peter offered as Tony looked around in confusion.

“Wade, are you all right?” Tony asked.

“Uh, _yeah_ ,” Wade replied, a little miffed. “Are you? Because, I got to say, you’re being incredibly rude right about now.” He sniffed. “I mean, you could at least say _hello_.”

“Wade, it’s alright,” Peter soothed. “It’s not his fault. I mean, after all-”

“Wade,” Tony put in hesitantly. “There’s no one there.”

Wade blinked and Peter shifted around so that he could nuzzle up against Wade’s neck. “He’s right you know.” He smiled even as Wade stood frozen with confusion. “I’m not really here.”

Peter laughed softly and moved to nibble warmly at his ear.

“I never was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOkay! So I didn't want to spoil it before, but now that you know what this fic is going to be like moving forward, I want to say that while this fic is still going to be MAINLY spideypool centric, I'm also going to be introducing at least 2 other major ships that involve my main characters (No, you don't get to know what they are). SO YEAH. There won't be any cheating, exactly, but they might not be acting like good little boys all of the time either. Just a pre-warning. I'll tag the ships as they start to show up, so if you don't want to know, don't delve too deeply into the tags.  
> Wow this note got long. ANyways, as always, let me know what you thought! (Also, if you have any characters that you want to see show up, let me know. I still have a lot of room in my supporting cast)


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